


Good night.

by SpiritOfSakura



Category: Undertale
Genre: Adult Frisk, Death, Gen, Older Frisk, elderly frisk, i don't know how to tag things, i wrote this at 1 in the morning, so it's probably rambling, sorry i guess, the afterlife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13458174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritOfSakura/pseuds/SpiritOfSakura
Summary: It is dark.They are familiar with it, this darkness. They've seen it more times than any person should have to. More than any other person would be able to. It's become familiar, almost comforting in a way. If they are here, that means things will soon be better. Things will be all right again. All it takes is a second.But this time...this time is different. This time, they linger.





	Good night.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [It's Still You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459719) by [Painful_Parody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Painful_Parody/pseuds/Painful_Parody). 



It is dark.

They are familiar with it, this darkness. They've seen it more times than any person should have to. More than any other person would be able to. It's become familiar, almost comforting in a way. If they are here, that means things will soon be better. Things will be all right again. All it takes is a second.

But this time...this time is different. This time, they linger.

And this time, though they won't admit it to themselves, a small part of them is afraid. They've always known, to a degree, what would come next. What challenges they would face, and overcome.

But this is something truly new.

A soft thump startles them from their thoughts, and they turn. A boat rests in the darkness, floating gently atop water that wasn't there before. A hooded figure rests within it, the unseen face beneath their cowl just as comforting and unnerving as it was when they first met them.

"Tra la la," the figure says in a quiet, melodious voice. "So you've come at last. Care for a ride?"

They hesitate. In the corner of their vision, far in the distance, a soft, yellow light glows.

"Returning now will only grant you so much time," the hooded figure says. "Human bodies wear out eventually."

"I know," they respond quietly, looking down at the blackness below their feet. "But...I could give them more time. To...prepare."

The other is quiet for a moment, but their tone is gentle when they finally respond--so much so that the human lifts their head again in surprise. "It will not lessen their pain. It will only cause more to you, in the end."

They are silent for a long, long time. Finally, they nod wordlessly and climb into the boat, wrinkled fingers grasping onto their chauffeur's robe to keep themselves steady. They sit, weathered joints creaking with the wood of the boat, and without another word they begin to move.

The vessel skims silently through the water, the pace much slower than they remember. There is no wooden dog's head at the helm to pat this time, and no wind to ruffle the gray hair atop their head. Far above the two in the inky black, stars flicker to life one by one. They look up as the night begins to brighten, mentally tracing the constellations that have become so familiar to them over the years.

"Tra la la," their companion hums. "It's good to take a break now and then, don't you think?"

"...Yeah," they reply, the hint of a burning feeling building behind their eyes. "It is."

The hooded figure nods. "The waters are calm today."

A hint of a smile appears on their face. "Is that good luck, or bad?"

"Who knows? Maybe it's both."

They think, then nod at this response. "Both makes sense. It's perspective, after all."

"And just as the river changes, so too does the water..."

The conversation trails off into silence. They find this oddly peaceful. Though...they suppose that's been more common lately, hasn't it? Peace.

It's what they worked so hard for. To give everyone peace. To let them rest, and just live their lives. They suppose it's only fair that they finally have to rest as well.

And though it hurts, deep within them--is their soul still here anymore? Is that all they are now? The person they would ask is no longer here--they accept that it's time. They're ready. As ready as they can be, despite all their questions. All their worries. They knew, after all, when they got on the boat--there was no turning back this time.

With that thought, the boat slows to finally rest against an unseen shore. "Here we are," the other says. "Come ride again sometime."

"...Can I?" they ask. 

"Someday, perhaps. Who knows? I'll be here, on my boat."

They wait, but it seems that's all the figure has left to say. They finally nod. "...Thank you," they say quietly. "I'll see you around, I hope."

"I'm sure you will, Frisk," they respond, startling them with the use of their name. "Safe travels!"

With another nod, they look to the darkness ahead of them. With trembling hands, they step out of the boat and onto the shore. A question coming to their lips, a last few words of hope for reassurance, they turn--but there is nothing there. No boat, no river. Nothing.

Facing forwards once more, they take a steadying breath. They can do this.

They step into the dark.


End file.
